Dark Days, Dark Nights
On one of the battlements of the castle, Jaime was cleaning his sword.
The night was coming, although the days were so dark at Winterfell, there was almost no difference.
He heard laughs, turned around and saw the wench, accompanied by that wildling of hers. He frowned; the wench never used to smile.
Brienne said goodbye to the redhead and approached him. She also drew her sword, Oathkeeper. The two blades were almost identical.
"Another day, another watch," she said, smiling to him. Despite the cold air, a thin layer of sweat covered her face.
"You look exhausted," Jaime observed.
"We were practicing." She hesitated, for a second. "You haven't trained with us, these last days."
Jaime shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you"
"You hit him with your golden hand, the last time… That was what made upset," she replied. "I don't know why you're always so rude to him. He hasn't give you any reasons for you to act this way."
At this, he felt the tension grow inside him .Seven hells!, Jaime thought. Why does she have to defend him so much?
He didn't know how it had all begun. By the time he had arrived north, to join this alliance against the Others, Brienne and the man already had a close relationship. But, of course, the stupid wench hadn't seem to realize how the wilding looked at her.
"Do you love him?" he asked, at last.
She got flustered, her eyes burned with rage.
"You're an asshole…he is just a friend of mine…and…"
But Jaime did not let her finish. He approached his face to hers and kissed her. For a moment, he thought she would punch him, but she begun to respond, even though clumsily. That encouraged him. He deepened the kiss. If their blades hadn't been unsheathed, he would have pulled her closer. Their tongues were moving together now, in synchrony, and the wench's hand was caressing his beard.
When they finally broke apart, Jaime was grinning.
"You're such an idiot," she said, and the shade of a smile danced in her lips.